


I'd Sacrifice Anything, Come What Might

by tess_genor



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Blood and Gore, John owns Malcolm's ass, M/M, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wound Fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 06:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tess_genor/pseuds/tess_genor
Summary: John has bent Malcolm into his perfect little disciple. After a mission goes well, John decides to reward his little Malcolm with something extra special.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Paul Lazar | John Watkins
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	I'd Sacrifice Anything, Come What Might

**Author's Note:**

> Please know what you're about to get into. The entire thing is riddled with mentions of blood and gore. it's not pretty. But hey, it's content. 
> 
> Title comes from the song I've Got You Under My Skin because I think I'm funny. 
> 
> However, if you're one of those cool cats who can read while listening to music, I highly recommend listening to [Blood by Cult of Helix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8eZ0snVICqA) . It's what I listened to while writing this.

The sound of his blade slashing repeatedly through the same wound was mesmerizing to Malcolm. With each pass a new stream of blood poured out and further damaged the long dead man. Slowly, his Savior’s hand appears from over his shoulder. It moved down his chest until it reached his hips, finger tips softly grazing over the tightness in the front of his pants.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you little one?” John’s words are lost on Malcolm who is still grunting and deepening each cut he makes. John’s chest comes up to Malcolm’s back and his Savior’s free hand encircles his wrist, breaking the enchantment of the tattered tissue. “I’ve asked you a question.” John waits for Malcolm’s response.

Instead, Malcolm turns in John’s arms and presses their foreheads together. John’s hands cradle Malcolm’s face and he enjoys the feeling of the tacky blood splattered on his disciple’s cheeks. John twists Malcolm’s head as he pleases and cleans off a cheek with a lick, harshly rubbing the broad surface of his tongue against the stubble.

“You were so good for me today. I think you deserve an extra special reward.” John whispers against Malcolm’s ear and waits to watch Malcolm as he processes this news. Once it clicks, Malcolm draws his knees under him, places his hands folded neatly in his lap, and bows his head.

“Daddy, will you fuck me tonight?”

John chuckles deep in the back of his throat and smooth’s Malcolm’s hair. Without warning, John switches from smoothing to grabbing Malcolm’s hair in a vice grip, yanking his head back to force Malcolm’s eyes to meet his.

“Oh I’m going to do so much more than that. Pick a new spot, baby. This is going to be one to remember.” Malcolm’s eyes would have rolled back if John’s wasn’t there shaking his head.

“My thigh. I choose my thigh.” John removes his hand from Malcolm’s hair and places it palm up in front of Malcolm. Quickly, Malcolm lays the stained knife from his hand into John’s.

John beams at Malcolm. His little one didn’t clean the dead man’s blood off of the knife like he had been instructed. Malcolm had become such a good boy for John. Obeying every command, remembering every lesson, and even anticipating John’s next move without John having to tell Malcolm what to do.

”What a good boy I have.” John waves the knife in front of Malcolm’s face. The light catches on the sharp edge and the blood looks as though it’s glowing.

”I want to be the best for you, Savior.” Malcolm sits up on his knees and kisses the flat surface of the blade.

John keeps Malcolm balanced up on his knees and unbuttons his pants. He pushes Malcolm’s clothing down to his knees and instructs him to lay on his back. Malcolm complies and moans when the back of his thighs touch the cold floor. John rests the knife on Malcolm’s thigh. They both know that if Malcolm moves and drops the knife that he will be punished. The thought of disappointing John alone is enough to ensure that Malcolm stays put.

Grunting as he unbuttons his pants, John keeps a watchful eye on his boy. This act of love was going to take a lot from Malcolm and John wants to make sure that he doesn’t kill his prized possession. John finally manages to open his pants and he pulls them down just enough so that his cock springs free. He’s already leaking, anticipating what’s to come. Malcolm takes one look at John and instinctively rolls his hips.

“Like what you see, little one?” John folds back the sides of his jeans. “Keeping them on nice and high for you. Just so you can feel every movement. Every drag of the teeth from the zipper, the rough brush of the denim against where you’re going to so lovingly open yourself up for me.”

John picks up the knife and allows the edge to catch on Malcolm’s skin, a red mark springing up in its wake. Malcolm closes his eyes, completely blissed out and ready to be at John’s mercy.

Nothing Malcolm can do will ever brace him for the shocking pain of John digging the tip of his knife into Malcolm’s thigh. Malcolm wails and cuts the sound off when he realizes what he had done. John releases the knife but it stays lodged in Malcolm’s thigh, his flesh holding it up. John reaches behind him and pulls a scrap of bloodied fabric off of the corpse. He holds it up above Malcolm and he opens his mouth.

”Attaboy.” John purrs. He forces the fabric in Malcolm’s waiting mouth. Malcolm blinks his thanks. John never wants to hear Malcolm. Malcolm may only speak or make noise when spoken to.

John goes back to the knife. He wraps his hand around the handle and hums. He adds pressure, angling the knife to the side, and drags. It’s a long and deep cut. John is thankful for all the lessons that Martin has taught him. He knows that he missed all major arteries and that Malcolm will survive this.

When John pulls the knife out of Malcolm, a stream of blood pours down the outside of his leg. John gathers the blood in a cupped palm and pours it over the head of his cock. John grins like a madman as he coats himself in Malcolm’s blood. His dick turning a dark shade of red with just a few passes of his hand.

”You ready, little one?” John asks as he positions himself over Malcolm’s body.

Malcolm nods eagerly and bends his knees slightly, giving John better access to the gash in his thigh. The head of John’s cock brushes against the hole John created. He places a hand on either side of the wound and spreads it open, Malcolm cries at the pain, but his cock twitches despite it. He’s conditioned to love anything John does to him.

The warmth and squeeze of Malcolm’s ass is nothing compared to the hole in his leg. John made sure that he was going to feel huge in Malcolm’s leg. The head of his cock pushes into Malcolm’s thigh. The rag in Malcolm’s mouth does barely anything to muffle his screams. John thrusts in again, enjoying the feel of Malcolm’s muscles tensing around him and the beautiful sight of Malcolm’s skin tearing at the edges of the wound. His skin forced open under John’s body.

Without warning, John pulls out of Malcolm. A few drops of blood fall from John’s cock and on to Malcolm’s stomach. John lays himself over Malcolm’s body and braces himself on his elbows. He reaches down with one hand and pushes his cock into cut lengthwise. John draws his hand back and rubs the excess blood over Malcolm’s face. Malcolm closes his eyes and leans into his master’s touch. Everything John does for Malcolm is a gift.

John draws his hips back, he relishes the noises coming from Malcolm. Little mewling noises of pain and arousal. As John always says, the only way to salvation is through pain. Malcolm would go to hell and back if it meant John would save him.

John thrusts against Malcolm’s leg. The slide comes easy enough with Malcolm’s blood lessening the friction. He rolls his hips and looks over his shoulder to see his disciple. Malcolm has his eyes scrunched tight in pain, but there’s a smile gracing his mouth. 

“Aren’t you so very blessed?” John asks Malcolm. He immediately opens his eyes and nods at John. John wants a response, but didn’t remove the makeshift gag or tell Malcolm that he could talk. “And such a good listener. My sweet, Malcolm. God’s greatest gift to me was you.”

John fucks into Malcolm. He no longer cares about filling Malcolm’s head with sweet nothings. John is going to take what is his, which currently means taking his pleasure from Malcolm’s pain. Malcolm lifts his pelvis up with every thrust, he meets John every time he rocks forward, does everything in his power to make this better for John. Malcolm will always do anything he can for John. Anything for his daddy, for his master, for his Savior.

Malcolm can tell John isn’t going to last much longer. His arms shake from carrying the weight of his body and his thighs tremble as he tries his hardest to keep himself from coming. Malcolm takes steadying breaths as he prepares himself for John’s load. John tenses up. Malcolm starts to moan from behind the piece of fabric. He moans as though any of this was actually good for him, he moans because he knows that John loves hearing him while John orgasms, Malcolm moans to help John over the edge.

“Oh, little one. I’m so close.” John grunts. He makes a point of never using God’s name in vain. John rocks backwards and fucks into Malcolm one last time. John jerks and curses as he spills into Malcolm. 

Malcolm loves the noises his Savior makes. Loves knowing that he is directly responsible for the pleasure John feels. Malcolm moans and shivers as John empties himself into Malcolm’s leg. Each spurt flashes hot as it lands into the open wound. 

John stays still for a moment, allowing himself the time he needs to come back down from his orgasm. He sits down on his knees and stretches his back out. John digs his fingers into Malcolm and scoops up a bit of his seed. 

“Here you go, baby. Something to help you get big and strong like me.” John removes the spit soaked fabric from Malcolm’s open mouth and drops in his spend. 

Malcolm licks at John’s hand. Swiping his tongue over every area he can reach. John pushes his fingers into Malcolm’s mouth until he gags. Malcolm lays there like a good boy and allows John to continue to fuck his hand into Malcolm’s mouth. Malcolm doesn’t care what the cost is to him just as long as John is happy. 

The heavy taste in his mouth dulls as Malcolm continues sucking and swallowing around John. The metallic sting from Malcolm’s blood and the musk of John’s come diluting as Malcolm’s mouth waters. 

“That’s right, little one.” John caresses Malcolm’s cheek. “You were so good for me. Such a good boy. I could not have asked for a better disciple to share my message and mission with.” John withdraws his fingers from the wet heat of Malcolm’s mouth. He smiles down at his boy.

“Thank you, Savior.” Malcolm sits up and winces at the movement. He knows that tonight's fun is going to leave a scar. His Savior would say that the scar is to help Malcolm remember his lesson. So that whenever Malcolm looks at his scar he will remember how good he is for John and how lucky Malcolm is that John would reward him with such a permanent mark of love.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been something that I've wanted to write for a while now. If this is content you like, you can always find more like it in the [Prodigal Son Trash Server](https://discord.gg/GvNf8ek) on discord.


End file.
